


don't you think that it's boring how people talk

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, I'm so sorry to my parents and also god and also jesus, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Slash, They're just too stupid to do anything about anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disillusioned law school graduate Oh Sehun takes the job as defense attorney Kim Joonmyun's personal assistant as a way to rebel from his scripted life. He doesn't expect to actually get it, nor does he expect to make a career out of it - But things never go as planned for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you think that it's boring how people talk

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, it's happened, I did it, I'm in RPF hell. Aside from that, this is my first endeavor into RPF so I'm really sorry if I get any characterization wrong - I tried my best to stay true to, uh, canon? Title from "Tennis Court" by Lorde because fuck titles.
> 
> For fic purposes, Sehun was born and raised in London by Korean parents because reasons and the age difference between Sehun and Suho is a little wider but not by much. Excuse the liberties I took with Suho's fictional family. I'm sorry actual Kim family.
> 
> Features various EXO-K/M members as background characters and also blink and you miss it background Baekyeol.

If you asked him, Sehun couldn't tell you why he'd applied for the job.

He supposed it had something to do with his parents forcing him to live out their dream, his protests and pleads that his dance classes weren't just a fun time waster, but something he wanted to do for a living, falling on deaf ears. Being shoved into law school in the heart of London - Just the place he wanted to get _away_ from - but he'd be damned if he didn't do his best. He considered getting those A's and B's his own private point to prove, especially considering he barely got A's and B's in high school. Those four years of his life weren't exactly hell, but he didn't cry at graduation either. His cap and gown were barely pressed and hung in his closet before his parents were clamoring to find him internship offers, twisting his arm to go to grad school to change his focus. Majoring in criminal law instead of the family tradition of business law had been his one rebellion. The thought of being stuck in a college for who knows how long working for a degree he didn't even want - _Well_. He couldn't think of much worse.

He'd been quietly searching online for jobs in international ( _far, far away from home_ ) preferably Korean-speaking firms when he found the classified ad, like some sort of cosmic fluke. ' _Full-time personal assistant needed,_ ' it read. ' _Business experience preferred; Knowledge of criminal law required. Call or e-mail serious inquiries only. Salary in relation to skill and competency; Negotiable. Contact Kim Joonmyun, J.D._ '

He Googled the name first, of course. Instead of review boards clamoring to post about how this guy was a scam, he found a legitimate website. Neat, minimalistic, easy to navigate - He had a good graphic designer, that was for sure. It told the usual information - How he'd gotten his start in law, his credentials, his current residence. His father had been a prominent politician until a scandal regarding his affair with a much younger woman forced him out of government forever. His son, claiming to want to shed new positive light on the family name, went on to pursue a career in public defense with the aim to be a prosecuting attorney. He'd attended the top law school in Seoul, spent a year studying abroad in London, spoke fluent Latin, was twenty-nine years old, and unmarried.

His parents would have been appalled hear their law school-educated son was applying for a job as a personal assistant; They'd either die of shock or disown him. He was to be an Oxford grad student, the model of the perfect child, and make their family look good by shoving himself into a career he didn't even _want_.

His second rebellion was to send his perfectly formatted cover letter and resume to the attached email address inquiring if the position was still open.

After several back-and-forth emails, two international phone calls, and a Skype interview later, a large manila envelope addressed to Sehun was delivered to his apartment. It contained a single ticket to Incheon International, a stack of won big enough to use as a doorstop with an attached note saying ' _Cab fare_ ', and a note to pick up the dry cleaning before he came into the office for the first time.

His last rebellion was telling his parents he was leaving for a job interview in Knightsbridge, getting on a plane instead, and resolving to block their numbers and direct all their e-mails to his spam folder. If everything ended up fucked and he failed at this job, he'd at least be out of their hair forever. He'd manage - This was by no means a permanent position, just long enough to get him on his feet in Seoul. He'd manage.

 

* * *

 

 **Two years later**  
  
He walks into Joonmyun's bedroom carrying breakfast on a tray balanced in one hand, two phones in the other. With a practiced ( _all-too practiced_ ) air he slides the tray onto Joonmyun's lap and switches a phone to each hand, sitting down on the edge of Joonmyun's-way-too-big-for-one-person bed.

"French toast, coffee, and some fruit salad - That's not exactly a balanced breakfast, but I do as commanded." Joonmyun always likes French toast after a night of drinking. Sehun looks at his boss over the top of the black-cased iPhone in his hand, scrolling through the itinerary with a stylus - the Professional Phone, for any and all business related matters.

Joonmyun looks tired but more handsome than ever, his chocolate brown hair tousled from sleep and his dark eyes lit up with amusement at his dourly peering assistant.

"I could kiss you, Sehun," His voice is thick with sleep but clearly happy at the prospect of food as he digs into the French toast in a decidedly unprofessional manner.

"Please refrain, Joonmyun-hyung." Sehun raises an eyebrow behind the phone screen, mouth curving into a smirk.

"My compliments to the chef, then?" Joonmyun yawns, stretching his - _Perfectly toned and lean arms_ , only a blind man wouldn't notice and Sehun's been noticing for two years - arms above his head, scratching his bare chest.

"Don't kiss him either. He has a wife." Sehun's look is dubious, but he indulges Joonmyun with a smile as Joonmyun snorts.

"You never let me do anything," he quips, leaning back into his truly impressive spray of pillows. "What do I have for today?"

Sehun rises from the bed, scrolling through the Professional Phone while heading to Joonmyun's abnormally large walk-in closet.

"It's ten A.M. right now. I've set up a lunch date with a prospective client for twelve P.M. at the Shilla - The battered woman from Busan?" He pushes open the closet, tucking the phone into his blazer pocket. "After that you've got a four P.M. flight to California for the Jung case. I've picked up your suits from the dry cleaning and had your car washed for when you get back - And your luggage is packed and already en route to your suite in San Francisco."

Sehun selects a suit from the rack - Wool blend, English cut, two-button. He'd spent many long agonizing hours negotiating with tailors over the phone that _yes_ you could fix a suit to Joonmyun's measurements, _yes_ he was aware that Joonmyun was quite short and it was offensive to say it in such an alarmed tone, _yes_ he was willing to pay for the alterations and would tack on extra if they would just shut up and get it done. He's been keeping Joonmyun professional for years, even if he does end up taking off the jacket in court 99% of the time and a little piece of Sehun's heart dies every time.

Joonmyun's voice floats into the closet as Sehun is making sure the shade of the shoes he has picked out doens't clash with the suit. "What would I do without you?"

Sehun snorts, emerging from the closet with the suit and a tie draped over his arm. "Be late everywhere and gloriously screw up tying your own tie?"

He places the suit on the bed, a not-so-subtle urge to get Joonmyun to get up and dressed. Joonmyun's used to it by now and sighs, pushing the empty breakfast tray aside as he stands. Sehun's seen Joonmyun in various states of undress for years, as his full-time nearly live-in PA, but it never ceases to make him stare. He's striking in a way you don't notice at first glance, his features would have looked out of place on anyone else. But he carries himself like a king and his body is finely toned from all that cardio he does and Sehun could sit and stare at the way his muscles move under his skin for hours. But he's learned to not let his fascination show on his face - Joonmyun can smell weakness.

"I recommend you shower first. You stink like a brewery." Sehun raises a disapproving eyebrow, plucking the last bit of strawberry from the fruit bowl on the breakfast tray and popping it in his mouth. "Speaking of."

Joonmyun sighs, smirking as he passes Sehun on his way to the bathroom, ruffling his dyed blonde hair. "Speaking of? I'm your hyung, Sehunnie. You defer to my decisions, particularly ones about my nighttime activities."

This is an old argument, one they've had since dinosaurs roamed the earth, it seems.

"First of all, Sehunnie? Really, hyung?" He gives Joonmyun the Eyebrow of Death. "Second of all, you have a reputation to uphold. You're self-employed but your constant fraternization with all manner of disreputable boys in those clubs -" Sehun is cut off by Joonmyun pressing a finger to his lips, his face serious but eyes decidedly not so.

_God, those eyes._

Joonmyun baps his lips gently with the finger before turning around, his voice raising as he walks into the bathroom. "That's what I have you for, Sehun. To keep me in line."

Sehun makes a pained noise, rubbing his hand at his temples. Joonmyun hardly led some sort of secret double life as both esteemed lawyer by day and club-hopper by night, but he did have his indulgences. He won over the hearts of both court judges and the boys he met in shadowy bars with his effortless smile, neverending charm, and the way charisma just oozed out of him. Joonmyun had a way of making people feel _wanted_ , like they mattered, like what they were saying was the most interesting and important thing in the world and there was no place he would rather be. Not to mention if the usual tricks didn't work, he'd bring out the eyes. The eyes always did the boys in, made them fall into his arms and later, his bed.

There wasn't anything _wrong_ with Joonmyun liking to bring boys home, unless you had some moral objection to the always drastic age difference (Sehun usually did), the way they were always some sort of offbeat, weird, trying-too-hard-artsy type (Sehun hated those kind of people), or had to deal with the absolute shitstorm of a media circus that would come about if anyone realized Joonmyun's preferences (Sehun. Sehun would have to deal with it). The cases Joonmyun won, those were the times when Sehun had the easiest ride. Joonmyun would go out and celebrate with his friends, usually the forensics expert Kyungsoo that scared Sehun a little and an emergency room surgeon named Yixing who was always the designated driver. Joonmyun would wind up buying rounds of soju for everyone and going home happily buzzed to curl up on the couch and force Sehun to watch Pirates of the Caribbean with him for the thirtieth time, upon threat of unemployment.

Sehun dreaded the cases he lost, not only for the way he was forced to warp into PR Defcon 5 but the obvious toll they took on Joonmyun. He was a genuinely good man, a kind man, who'd gotten into the profession not only for his family but because he truly wanted to help people. Witnessing Joonmyun's emotional crash after having worked so hard to dish out justice made Sehun want to punch something, but Joonmyun's inevitable reaction was worse. He'd go out and drink alone in seedy bars and clubs and go off the grid for hours. Sehun would spend the entire time in a panic worrying if he'd get a phone call from the police saying his boss was passed out in a gutter somewhere or worse, only to have him stumble in at 4 AM with a barely legal boy wrapped around him and the door to Joonmyun's bedroom slamming in Sehun's equally worried and fuming face.

Joonmyun was right. That was what he had Sehun for. To set up appointments, bring him coffee, handle the spreadsheets, keep up his website, watch movies with him, rub his back and tell him everything was going to be okay at god-awful hours of the night when it all became too much for him and Joonmyun would cry about his dad, the pressure of holding an entire family name on his shoulders, the people he couldn't help. Sehun understood, and he was always there, and he didn't judge. It was probably why he was still following along after him years after his initial application.

"Sure that's what I'm here for, hyung." Sehun sighs in a resigned way, unable to protest whenever Joonmyun pulls the _What would I do without you, Oh Sehun?_ card.

The water in the shower starts and Sehun hit the buzzer for the maid to come clean up the breakfast tray before he walks into the ridiculously roomy bathroom, hopping onto the marble counter to sit.

"The boy from last night -" He begins, tossing a wrapped bar of soap between his hands. It looked stolen from a hotel. Joonmyun had a thing about hotel soap.

An indecipherable grunt from within the steam-covered shower cuts him off. Joonmyun's always a little awkward talking about his _conquests_ , as Sehun so inelegantly calls them. At this point Sehun is so used to it it barely fazes him. It's almost amusing to see what manner of hoodlum punk Joonmyun will drag through the front door next, although they do leave Sehun with a lingering need to take a shower just from being in proximity to them.

"The boy from last night." He starts over with a glare into the shower, though he knew Joonmyun couldn't see him. "Is taken care of, hyung. He's housed in the guest room on the second floor and been provided with fare for a cab when he wakes up. His clothes have been washed and dried and someone will be waiting to escort him out if he stays asleep too long."

It's protocol, the way Sehun handles the boys Joonmyun brings home. Joonmyun has a dreadful habit of falling a little in love with every single boy he sleeps with and refuses to treat them like something to be used and discarded, which Sehun can't help but admire in some weird way. Even if he'd cross the street to avoid the lot of the ones Joonmyun picks, he upholds his end of the deal (not like it's his job or anything to deal with this shit) and treats them with the utmost respect. Well - Baseline respect. He makes sure their clothes are washed and they have money for a cab and takes inordinate glee from the looks on their faces when they get kicked out the front door by a suddenly appearing, clearly displeased boy who declares loudly at them that they've overstayed their welcome.

Nothing personal, of course.

A sigh is emitted from the shower, sounding something like a contented puppy dog would make in his sleep. Sehun knows well from experience that is the sound of a satisfied Joonmyun, and he snorts.

"Honestly, hyung, where do you find these... Children?" Joonmyun is not _that_ (if you consider six years above _that_ ) much older than Sehun's own age of twenty-five, but the boys he brings home look young enough to land Joonmyun on about five different government watchlists. "Do you dig them out of the dumpsters? That last one. Blue hair, all those piercings? His jeans looked like they'd lost a fight with a pair of scissors."

Sehun isn't a snob, but he prides himself on keeping up with his appearance. The existence of these boys causes him offense, and he wants to force them all into at least one sweater that fits and isn't full of holes.

"They are _not_ children." Joonmyun is indignant as he steps out of the shower, emerging from a cloud of steam like something out of a really terrible romance drama. Sehun makes a conscious effort not to look at his dick as he hands him a towel - He's seen it before, it's not exactly avoidable, but he does like to keep the pretense of politeness and professionalism between them.

"They're children, hyung. And could you please perhaps consider, again, my offer of renting out a hotel room for these kinds of things? I'm really getting tired of going into the sitting room to make a call only to trip over a pile of rags."

Joonmyun's face hardens, his excellent jaw ( _don't think about his jaw_ ) setting as he ties the towel around his waist and gives Sehun a firmly disapproving look. Kim Joonmyun - Defense attorney, lover of golf and charity work, fiercely protective of any and all boys he comes into contact with.

"Sehunnie," His voice is a warning, but he squeezes Sehun's narrow shoulder as he walks out, scrubbing his lean arms and back with another towel. "Be polite."

Sehun sighs, flicking the light in the bathroom off as he follows him out. "You don't pay me to be nice to your temporary company."

Joonmyun arches an eyebrow as he buttons up his dress shirt, and Sehun is struck with the impulse to duck his head in shame - Joonmyun has a way of looking at him that is both stern, meaningful, and intense that he wishes to avoid.

"You have messages. Do you want me to play them for you?" He takes out the white-cased Personal Phone and Joonmyun rolls his eyes at the change of subject as he pulls on his pants and Sehun avoids looking at his ass in his Calvin Klein underwear like a good employee.

"Please do."

Sehun leans against the wall as he scrolls through Joonmyun's inbox, even though he's already memorized the new arrivals.

"E-mail from Baekhyun. Subject line, all caps: Party at our place, be there or be square, too late you're already a square." He raises an eyebrow at Joonmyun who groans, hooking his belt together a little too violently.

"Delete that. Without responding."

"Done. Text from Chanyeol, it's a selca of him with a platter of sushi bigger than his head." Sehun has no idea how Joonmyun's closest non-government payroll friends are an odd-couple he met in college (Chanyeol was playing the guitar under business major Baekhyun's window in an attempt to woo him after a fight) that now own a music store in Hongdae while saving up to buy their first house, but they are, and Sehun tolerates them for Joonmyun's sake. Chanyeol is nice and brings him vintage cassette tapes and cheesy pop CDs that he finds in his shipments but Baekhyun is way too much for _anyone_ to handle on so many levels.

Joonmyun surpresses a chuckle, sitting down on the bed to tie his shoes. "Save that."

Sehun does so.

"Text from that Japanese boy from last week - 'Had a great time, we should do it again, you've got the best cock I've ever ridden'. Wow. He's straight to the point." These types of messags made Sehun's cheeks flame in secondhand embarrassment the first few times he read them, but after two years of dictating sexts from the revolving door of Joonmyun's quick and fading lovers neither of them bat an eyelash. Usually. Some of these boys are _raunchy_.

Joonmyun stops attempting to tie his tie and smiles almost wistfully up at the ceiling. "Always nice to be complimented this early in the morning." He sighs, sliding in his cufflinks. "Delete that too."

Sehun used to ask why Joonmyun never bothered calling these boys back, but stopped after the only answers he got were noncommittal grunts and subject changes. He deletes the text.

"Text from the degenerate from last night - 'Woke up and you weren't there. Let myself out. Thanks for washing my clothes. Maybe I'll see you again sometime. Smiley face.' Signed 'Zitao' ." Sehun pauses, raising an eyebrow and looking up at Joonmyun in the mirror. "There's a picture. Him. In your bed. With bedhead." Sehun is horrified.

That catches Joonmyun off guard, and he drops a cufflink. He's quiet for a moment before scooping it up and fastening it, muttering to Sehun. "Save that. Save his number."

Sehun glances up in shock, but says nothing. It's really none of his business. If he punches in the number into the contacts list a little too angrily, it's a coincidence. He saves the selfie of the sleepy-eyed boy, hair all askew and dark bruises still on his collarbone, and considers taking half a bottle of Ibuprofen for the headache he's developing.

"Done." He rubs a hand to his temple, putting down the phone to help Joonmyun tie his necktie. By now he would think Joonmyun would learn to do this on his own without taking at least ten minutes, but he hasn't. Just another reason he keeps Sehun around, no doubt.

"Your brother called. He left a voicemail. Should I play it, hyung?"

Sehun has met Joonmyun's family once or twice, seeing as he has brought him home with him for last Christmas after learning he had no family that he spoke to and had sat in his apartment watching holiday movies and eating takeout with his cat the first year of his employment. To the Kim family Sehun is something of an oddity, and his mother and brother particularly can't seem to understand the strange professional friendship that they have. But Sehun likes the quiet, refined group and their understated pride and open hospitality, and they seemed to like him well enough. His last visit he'd even taught Joonmyun's little cousin the steps to the latest SNSD choreography, shocking Joonmyun entirely when he'd admitted he was a trained dancer. _There's a lot you don't know about me_ , he'd said, though they were both a little tipsy and Sehun was waltzing with Ms. Kim and he barely noticed the strange look Joonmyun got on his face as he whirled by.

Joonmyun's voice brings him back to the present.

"Oh, God. What does he want? Play it."

Sehun surpresses a bout of laughter - Joonmyun's joking disillusionment with his his brother never ceases to amuse him. He smooths Joonmyun's tie down, staunchly refusing to let his hands linger on the lines of his chest through the fabric as he hits play on the voicemail.

A pleasant greeting bursts forth, followed by a flutter of conversation spat out so fast that Sehun barely follows as he gathers Joonmyun's jacket up from the bed.

"Shit," Joonmyun states as the message ends, holding his arms out so Sehun can help him into his suit jacket.

Sehun cocks an eyebrow, looking over the top of Joonmyun's head into the mirror - Even in the lifts he wears for court, Sehun has a good four inches of height on him. "What? I didn't get most of that. Too fast."

Joonmyun groans as if he's just been sentenced to a firing squad and Sehun tactfully ignores him as he smooths down his own hair, checking his black sweater and black slacks for any signs of lint. Joonmyun occasionally makes fun of him for wearing so much black at work, but Sehun thinks he can hardly take fashion criticism from a man who can't tie his own tie.

"He's getting married." Joonmyun says this as if his brother just called him up to announce his intention to boil himself in tar - Joonmyun did not exactly like his brother's fiancee, who was admittedly quite _shrill_. "And we're invited. It's next month."

Sehun is immediately scrambling through his iPhone schedule to see if Joonmyun is free. "Next month? What day next month? Could he have not let us known earlier? It's going to be absolute fucking murder to get a flight out just a few weeks before and not to mention putting out halts on all your appoint - Wait, did you say _we_?" He stops, frozen as if he was a wind-up toy that suddenly ran out of steam.

"Yes, we." Joonmyun sighs, adjusting his jacket as he picked up the leather shoulder bag he kept his work materials in, slinging it over his shoulder. "He specifically told me to bring a date and if I couldn't find anyone _Just to bring that assistant of yours, since he's with you nearly all the time anyway_."

Sehun thinks he should be offended but instead there's a warmth in his stomach at the thought of Joonmyun's family bothering to associate them so closely. He's tempted to ask why Joonmyun just doesn't ring up one of his booty calls to bring but they're getting along at the moment so he doesn't, just goes back to typing on his itinerary.

"And you're choosing me over any potential dates? I'm flattered." He smirks, tucking the iPhone into his blazer pocket and escorting Joonmyun out the bedroom door even though his head barely comes up to Sehun's ear. "And tell your brother I have a life outside of you."

 _A life outside of you_. It's true, technically. He has a volunteer gig teaching the occasional class at the dance studio down the street from his house and sometimes even hangs out with some company dancers that the instructor noona who hired him knows. He has his pet cat at home that he considers his child and he even has a blog, though it's mostly a mishmash of dance videos and street photography because he hates sharing his personal life with strangers on the internet.

He sighs as he hands Joonmyun his Personal Phone, the Professional Phone in Sehun's pocket where it never leaves. He glances back at Joonmyun's penthouse suite as they ride the elevator down to the car that's waiting to take them to the Shilla to meet with Joonmyun client, and Sehun pretends not to notice that Joonmyun is texting the boy - _Zitao_ \- from the night before. After all, it doesn't bother him. It's nothing personal, and the insufferable urge to smack the nose off the kid is just because he's sucking up Joonmyun's valuable professional time that people in need of actual help pay excellent money for and distracting him from his good work.

In the car on the way to the Shilla he focuses on outlining Joonmyun's schedule for San Francisco for the two days they will be staying there. He even manages to feel a little warm inside when Joonmyun grabs his shoulder and pulls him into a tight hug when Sehun lets him know he wrangled them opera tickets.

"What would I do without you, Oh Sehun?" Joonmyun sighs, shaking his head as he examines the newly made spreadsheet that outlines how he will be spending his time in the San Francisco courtroom on the prosecuting side of a murder trial.

Sehun grumbles when Joonmyun squeezes his hand on his shoulder, and his toes feel an inane urge to curl when Joonmyun _leaves it there_ , his hand absently rubbing the younger's shoulder as he looks through his phone.

Sehun does _not_ allow his traitor toes to curl and wishes the traitor butterflies in his stomach would all drop dead because this is _not_ high school anymore and this is his _boss_.

He sighs and screens a call from a rival lawyer Joonmyun is Ignoring, allowing himself a sharp-edged smirk in Joonmyun's direction.

"Let's hope you never have to find out."


End file.
